Halfway to Anywhere
by Spirit16
Summary: A Jack and Sam drama/love story. A lesson in telling someone you love them before it's too late.


Disclaimer: The "Without A Trace" characters are not mine—I just borrowed them.

Halfway to Anywhere

The old abandon warehouse, Jack and Sam walked into, smelled like a locker room.

They were looking for a suspect in the disappearance of juror in an extortion trial-involving mobster Sadik Marku.

Sam didn't see him come out from the shadows. The suspect had Samantha in his sites. At the very moment he started to pull the trigger, Jack came out of nowhere and yelled "FBI, drop the gun!" The suspect now had a different target and quickly turned towards Jack. Two guns fired at almost the same moment, one man fell. Sam's gun now pointed at the suspect on the ground. Jack took a deep breath and asked Sam to get his gun and check the suspect—he would cover her.

"He's dead," she said as she raised her head towards Jack. She saw him reach inside the left side of his jacket—his hand was cover with blood when it came back out. "Jesus, Jack!"

He was just as surprised as she was. "I didn't feel it—I just felt something warm and wet." He backed up a foot or so, putting his back against the wall behind him. He slowly slid down to a sitting position on the floor.

Sam took off her jacket, rolled it up and put it on the floor near him. "Lie down and put your head on my jacket. I need to look at the wound. Easy!" she said.

"Ahhhhhh, it hurts now!" was his reply as he slowly eased himself horizontally on the cold hard floor.

"I know. It's going to be ok." As she pulled up his shirt to look with one hand, she activated her phone with other hand. "I have a dead suspect and an agent down. He's has a 38 gunshot wound to his lower left side—looks like a through and through—losing a lot of blood. Our location is the warehouse district in the old Washburn warehouse. I'm going to administer first aid until help arrives." She was surprisingly calm on the outside—FBI training. "Jack?"

"Yeah."

"I'm going out to the car to get the first-aid kit—I'll be right back. Stay put, try and relax, and don't close your eyes—you know all that, right?

"Yeah."

She was back at his side with the red duffle bag, with the familiar Red Cross symbol on the side. In less than a minute, she opened it and quickly surveyed its contents. "I think this is surplus from the first Gulf War." She found gloves, irrigating syringe, sterile water, super dressing, and quick clot. She had to undo his belt and pants to better get to the wound.

"What? You're not going to buy me a drink first?" was his smart-ass remark.

Sam smiled a bit. "Shut-up, and lean a little to your right." Her hands started to shake a bit-she shook them out. 'Have to stop the bleeding!' She told herself. As quick as humanly possible, she irrigated, put a lot of quick clot powder in the entry and exit areas and applied the supper dressing. He had lost a lot of blood in such a short time. "How are you doing Jack?—you still with me?

"Yeah, I'm great! Wouldn't happen to have any morphine in that bag?"

"Sorry, not included in this kit."

She was sure the bullet ripped through at least part of his intestines—poison now flowed freely through his body. She prayed her efforts would help save him. The only thing left to do was wait. "I've done all I know how to do. Just have to wait until the paramedics get here. You stay with me, OK?

"Yeah, didn't have any plans tonight anyway."

She moved her face closer to his. Looking into his eyes she gently stroked his forehead. "You're going to be fine!" She wasn't quite sure who she was trying to convince—him or herself. She started replaying the event in her head. A strange look came across her face. "You took his aim—didn't you?"

"What?"

"You heard me! He was about to shoot me, wasn't he?" She said almost yelling at him. The realization of what almost happened and what he had selflessly done flooded her with emotion. He raised his hand to wipe the tear rolling down her cheek. She took his hand and kissed it. "You saved me!"

"It's my job. You're part of my team—I'm supposed to protect you." He said in his typical Jack tone. He looked at her and cleared his throat trying to push down his own emotions. "Like I said to you once before—I'm not ready for you to leave yet."

Her tone softened. "I'm not ready for you to leave yet either. It's more than that, isn't it—it always has been. It was never over between you and me. I mean neither of us has really moved on. I love you Jack! I guess I always have."

He managed a smile. "Are you just saying that because you think I'm dying? If I pull through, you're going to have make good on that statement you just made.….and …. " He felt very light headed and was having trouble focusing.

Sam squeezed his hand. "What is it?"

"Dizzy."

"It's ok! You don't need to say anything—just stay awake. Do you hear that?" She could hear the faint sound of a siren. "It's the paramedics, Jack!"

"I don't hear anything."

"Ok Jack, I'm going to go outside and flag them in-make sure they know where we are. I'll only be a few minutes. Your job will be to stay awake while I'm gone—OK?"

"Yeah, yeah, I can do that." His vision was blurry now, and he was getting weaker. He hadn't told her—he needed to tell her before she left that he loved her too. Just as he was about to speak, she leaned over and kissed him passionately on the lips.

"There's more where that came from, if you stay awake!"

He managed to nod yes. Wow, he had forgotten how good she tasted and smelled. 'Wait!' he thought—he hadn't said it, but couldn't get the words out. The last thing he saw as he slipped into unconsciousness was Sam looking back at him before she past through the door.


End file.
